The Forgotten Ones
by hasapi
Summary: [ABANDONED] Often, forgetting something is a welcome relief...or at least, it isn’t that bad. But when three key characters are left out of plans for world domination, things get complicated fast. Poor Voldemort...
1. Home At Last

**Author's Note:** I'm insane. Oh, don't worry, not literally… At least I don't think so. I don't usually kill my characters, and I rather like happy endings… But the fact of the matter is, at this moment this is my seventh HP story. The six before that aren't even finished yet. They might be, by the time I post this. But the fact is, at this moment they aren't. Therefore why I am insane. This story was originally started for opal.star, a friend of mine on fanfiction.net (she wanted a romance with ______ in it, but not slash; you won't know who that person is till later), but now I think it will eventually be for me. I'm having a lot of fun writing it. 

Note: I posted this story in the Draco/Ginny section because it's the only pairing I am completely sure of. Draco/Ginny interaction starts second chapter.

**Pairings:** Doesn't really matter since there won't be much about them till later.

**Rating:** PG-13, mostly precautionary at this point

**Summary: Oftentimes forgetting something is a welcome relief, or at least it isn't that bad. But when you leave three key characters out of your plans for world domination, things get complicated fast. Too bad Voldemort doesn't know about those three until it is much too late...**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own J. K. Rowling's world, but I do own Alicia Malfoy, and a few other characters scattered here and there. 

**********

_Chapter 1_

Alicia Malfoy looked at the imposing castle that was the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It wasn't as scary as some made it out to be. In fact, she was grateful to be back after so many years… Despite the mixed memories the place held for her. There were good ones, bad ones, horrible ones, and amazingly sweet ones. Albus Dumbledore had always been a high point of it all. He had become Headmaster just a few years before she started. 

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and becoming aware of her surroundings. Trees to her right, open field and plain—or moor, depending on how you chose to look at it—to her left. It was quiet, but only quiet in the way one expects wild things to be. If you listened hard enough, you could hear the wind, however slight, in the trees, and the rustle of birds' feathers in the air, and the shuffle of small animal feet on the wild floor. 

She smiled, opening her eyes again. Oh, how she loved it here! She laughed, the sound almost melodic, thinking how funny it was that a _Malfoy could love anything. Of course, she would protest angrily against almost all of the stereotypes against the Malfoy name, most particularly because she felt she did not embody them. _

The one assumption she hated most was that all Malfoys believed Voldemort to be the true lord. She snorted indelicately. As if she would ever believe that melodramatic bastard to be _anything of value. But she had to admit it helped in her role…_

Her role as a spy. 

She had the Dark Mark, but she had not allowed it to control her life. Her mother had been strong against her father, and she would be strong against the Dark Lord. She would never let him win, and that meant never showing weakness, and never giving in. Despite the mark that declared her evil to the world, she had retained as much innocence as she could. She cherished moments like these, when she could stand uninterrupted in the wild breeze, the wild land, and let its innocence wash over her, make her feel like anything but evil, as had been happening lately.

She had received the Dark Mark a mere year after her graduation, the horrid ceremony fifteen years earlier forever burned into her mind, never leaving her be except in those few blessed moments such as the one she had experienced earlier. 

Her nephew, Draco, was an important part of her life. Had it not been for him, Alicia had a very strong feeling that she would have broken down years ago. Years ago, when her fiancé had managed to throw both her heart and her future out the door in one fell swoop, she had visited her brother. His wife had just gone through nearly two days of labor—announcing afterwards, very loudly, that she would _never_ do that again, so the child had bloody well better have been a boy—and he walked up, beaming, to the nursery where the small child was sleeping. She had instantly fallen in love with the little baby.

Lucius was a proud father. Alicia truly believed he loved his son, and for that she was grateful. But he had let his devotion to the Dark Lord cloud not only his aspirations, but his dreams, his world, his future… His son. Draco was such a stoic little child, so much like his father that it almost scared her. She often gained permission from her brother to take him out and about, to Diagon Alley, her office—Quidditch games even. 

Draco had always been interested—and good—in Quidditch, and his father had been pushing him to play, especially for his house team. She had wanted it to be his own choice, but she knew the dominating force that was her brother would not allow anything other than exactly what he wanted. So she had kept her mouth shut, as much as it pained her. She had tried to advise him in other things, such as girls and school, but she was never certain how much he took heed of her words. 

She had been Head Girl in her day, and was a prefect in both her fifth and sixth years. She had graduated with honors, and recommendations from all her teachers—even McGonagall, whose history with Slytherins had never been very good. But even the older witch had to admit that Alicia was good at what she did and could do. Her favorite subject had been, surprisingly enough to those not Slytherin, Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

Professor Dayley, the professor, was fun, funny, and knew what he was talking about. He was older, probably close to age with Professor Dumbledore. When the time had come for him to retire, she had been nearly devastated. He had retired after her sixth year, and she had found seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts a complete waste of time. And so had begun the cursed job, professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

She had payed close attention in the news, especially after both Quirrell and Lockhart had pretty much disappeared after their short terms as the professor for her favorite class. Then when it had been announced that Professor Lupin was a werewolf—the entire Wizarding world knew about it as soon as Rita Skeeter got hold of the story—she was shocked, and yet also not surprised. She had felt incredibly sorry for her nephew, though, who had seemed to be enjoying Lupin as a teacher, and because of that, the Defense of the Dark Arts. The fact that his life would be filled with the Dark Arts because of his father was why she was so upset that his chance to learn about the defense against them had been missed.

But the job seemed to be cursed. And then… Goddess, how she had ever gotten the straight story of what had happened in her nephew's fourth year was beyond her, but somehow she had. 

She had pieced it together, little by little, from her meetings with Voldemort and her friends and colleagues from school and work, along with her nephew. He had been a large source of information, especially since she had gotten hold of all the information before Skeeter had. He honestly had no idea how much help his information was. 

Alicia sighed, beginning her walk towards the school. She really shouldn't be acting as though she were going to her doom, she chastised herself silently. After all, the place had been home to her for nearly seven whole years… What was so different about it now?

_Because your status has changed_, a little voice whispered in her inner ear. She knew it was right. Her status had changed, and because of that, she was nervous. She was no longer a student. If caught doing something wrong, there would be no angry glances and glares when Slytherin lost points. No sympathizing glance from her brother or his best friend, Severus Snape—who she had to admit she had entertained a bit of a crush on in her early Hogwarts years. 

"Alicia!" a fatherly voice called from the entrance to the school. 

She smiled in response, hastening her steps. "Hello, professor!" she called happily. Alicia shook her head inwardly. Was there nothing the man couldn't do? She had been rather depressed just a few seconds earlier, and now she was as happy as a clam. She stifled a laugh, wondering, not for the first time, just _where_ that expression had come from. As soon as she reached him, he opened his arms, and she nearly leapt into them, so happy she was to see him.

He hugged her close. "It's so good to see you, Alicia. How long has it been?"

"Just a couple of years," she smiled, pulling away slightly to get a better look at him. His hair was just as silvery gray as ever, and his eyes still had that sparkle to them that she remembered. 

He waved a hand dismissively. "Meetings really don't count."

She grinned. "Sixteen years then, I suppose."

A small, sad look overtook his face. "So long…" he whispered quietly, seemingly forgetting she was still there. How he could do that, she would never know. Especially since she often wondered whether he forgot anything. Recovering, he smiled again. "It _is_ quite good to see you my dear. So glad you've deigned to join me. Come, Minerva is in the Great Hall. We were supposed to be starting the lesson plans for next year, but I wanted to get you first."

Alicia smiled. "Thank you. I don't have to stay, I could just—"

He waved a hand. "No, no, you will stay. You've already agreed to it after all."

They walked in companionable silence to the Great Hall, where they found McGonagall bent over some papers. As soon as she heard the door open she said, without looking up, "Oh, Albus, I've completely forgotten! Do we even have a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

Albus Dumbledore smiled. "Of course, my dear. In fact, she's right here." He pulled Alicia to stand beside him. 

Minerva McGonagall looked up, a shocked look on her face as she processed the identity of the person beside the Headmaster. Then a rare smile appeared on her face, and she said, in a voice only her most favorite students had ever heard, "Alicia Malfoy, so wonderful to see you again."

Alicia just smiled.


	2. On the Train

Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy boarded the Hogwarts Express with a sigh of relief. He was here, again. His father had not managed to have him transferred to Durmstrang, mostly because of the protest his mother had put up. He hadn't said anything, whether it be for Hogwarts or Durmstrang, but his mother knew. His aunt knew as well. 

He loved Hogwarts, impossible though it may seem; the history of the place, but especially the feeling that he was truly protected there. Even with the attacks in his second year, it remained a safe haven for him. Now that he was in his fifth year, he was growing up, and the fact that he would have to leave it soon was very real to him. Nearly every second was cherished in the place, and he detested the petty squabbles that would break out between him and the other students.

Oh, he supposed he hadn't minded them during his first three years, and if he were honest with himself, his fourth year as well. 

But during his visit with his aunt that summer, he had made a derogatory remark about Muggleborns. To be more specific, he had used the term 'Mudbloods.' She had given him this _look_… A look that had said loads. It had, in essence, been a pitying look. Had she not been his aunt—and therefore a Malfoy—he would have never let her hear the end of it. Malfoys were not pitied. 

But this was a Malfoy pitying a Malfoy. 

He'd had no idea what to do. Then she had said, quietly, _"I hope that you learn better, Draco; there are better things to do than belittle those whom you believe to be weaker than yourself." Those words were still haunting him. His aunt had always had a smile for him, and they would always do fun things, either visiting her office at the Ministry, or going to Quidditch games, or even just going to the park. _

Surprisingly enough, it had been the first time he had said the word in her presence. It had also been the last time, not only in her presence, but without it as well. He was grateful that his father had been unable to take him to Diagon Alley this year, as he had run across Colin and Dennis Creevey, two Muggleborns who attended Hogwarts. He'd made no remarks about their heritage, and, still shocked by what his aunt had said, had said nothing derogatory at all.

Draco shook his head, stepping into a compartment. Maybe he should get his head checked or some such thing. Not that he was sure where that could be done. But he was certain it could be done somewhere. 

He actually hadn't seen his father very much that summer at all. Just a couple of weeks after he'd gotten back from Hogwarts, his father had gone on an extended business trip with Narcissa. He'd spent almost the whole of the summer after that with Aunt Alicia, only returning to his home for the last week and a half. 

The door of the compartment burst open and the figure—whose only feature he could identify was the flaming red hair—slammed the door shut and leaned against it, gasping for breath. Draco's eyes widened as he realized it was the youngest Weasley, Ginger or something. However, he was rather anxious to get back to his thoughts, so instead of making a crack about her family, he turned to the window. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize anyone was—" the girl stopped suddenly, as she realized who she was speaking to. Or at least that was what he assumed. "Malfoy," she said vehemently. 

Draco sighed, knowing his thoughts would have to be left while he got rid of her. He turned to the girl and quirked a brow. "Yes, Weasley?"

She frowned, as though trying to discern why he hadn't made a remark about her clothes or her family or, the Gods forbid, her hair. 

He scowled. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

She seemed to be wondering whether perhaps he had become brain-damaged during the summer—an option he himself had not completely ruled out. Instead of leaving, she sat down carefully on the seat opposite him and crossed her ankles primly. It was then that he noticed she was already in her uniform, and wondered at that. The train hadn't even started—

There it was. How had he missed the 'all aboard'? And where were Pansy and Crabbe and Goyle? Not that he cared about the latter two, but it worried him that they hadn't found him yet. They usually followed him around like two dogs followed their master, and yet they hadn't arrived. 

The girl cleared her throat. "Perhaps we haven't met," she said slowly, as though speaking to one who was mentally disturbed, "I'm Ginny Weasley."

Ah. So it was Ginny. He scowled at her. "I know who you are."

She ignored his comment and continued slowly, "What is your name?"

He scowled again and said, pompously, "You know very well who I am; Draco Malfoy."

Ginny—it would be too confusing if he thought of her as Weasley—tilted her head. "Yes, well I'm not completely sure of that."

He scowled at her, _again_, and said, "Why aren't you leaving?"

Ginny leaned back in her seat. "There aren't any other open compartments; lots of new first years."

Instead of arguing with her, as he would have otherwise been eager to do, he just leaned back and ignored her. His aunt had said once that if someone was trying to annoy you, the best thing to do would be not to respond to them; responding only meant that they were succeeding. So, he decided to take his aunt's advice, and he turned back to the window.

Half an hour later, he was ready to throw his aunt's advice out the window he'd been staring out of. The youngest Weasley _still hadn't left. In fact, she was staring at him—had been, for at least the last twenty minutes. It was making him very uncomfortable, not that he would ever admit to it. _

Finally, after another five minutes, during which he could feel her eyes on him, and he himself wondering where in the names of the Gods Pansy and Co. was, he turned to her and scowled. Again. "Why are _you still here?"_

A smile appeared on her face. "I don't know."

The scowl seemed permanently fixed to his face, and it deepened with her answer. What in the names of the Gods was he supposed to say? After everything, he somehow didn't think that a simple order would do it. He honestly had no idea how to get rid of the chit.

Once again, the compartment door opened. However, the person who opened it didn't open it all the way, or they would have seen Ginny as well. "Malfoy," the girl said with loathing in her voice.

"Why Granger," Draco said, a smirk making its way to his face, "how lovely to see you again."

A frown appeared on the Muggleborn's face, and Draco grinned inwardly. Finally. Someone who actually respected him…in a strange sort of way. Well, respected him enough not to find his actions amusing. She gave a small, "Hmph," of annoyance and left, not bothering to close the door. 

Draco scowled and stood up to close it. Just as he was about to, he caught the tail end of someone's statement. 

"—not in any of the compartments over there." It was Potter. Draco stopped and stood still, trying to catch the rest.

"Malfoy was in that one," Granger said. 

"Guys, where is she?" Weasley. 

"Ron," Potter said, sounding exasperated, "Just what did you say to her?"

"Nothing!" The Weasley sounded offended. "Well, not really."

Granger sighed. "Ron…"

"Hermione—"

"Ron," she interrupted. "If she doesn't want to be found, she doesn't want to be found. You'll see her at the feast, you know. It's not as though she's not on the train."

"How do you know that?" Weasley said angrily.

"Because she loves Hogwarts just as much as I do, and she would never leave it just because of a petty argument with her brother," Granger said softly, her voice hard. 

They started walking away—or at least that was what he assumed, as he didn't catch any more of the conversation after that. 

"Stupid Ron," a voice whispered near his ear.

To his extreme dismay, he let out a small scream and jumped away from the door. He looked at the girl there. Ginny. He let out a small growl of annoyance. She smirked.

"Well, well, well… So the big, bad Malfoy _can be scared…"_

He scowled at her. "Get out."

"No," she said primly. Sitting back down on her seat, she tucked her legs under her and leaned back. "Well?" she asked, glancing at him. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

His scowl deepened, but he walked stiffly over to his seat and did so, albeit a bit reluctantly. 

After five minutes—during which the female Weasley was still staring at him, much to his dismay—Draco scowled at her. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

She quirked a brow, a small smile making its way onto her face, as though he amused her. As he undoubtedly did. "Am I making you uncomfortable, Malfoy?"

"Of course not."

She sighed, and glanced at his trunk. "Well, may I borrow one of your books then?"

"Why would I let _you_ borrow one of my books?"

"Would you rather I stare at you for the remainder of the trip?"

"Why don't you just leave?"

"Maybe I don't want to."

Draco's eyebrows went up. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused," she said, her face coloring slightly. "Now, will you lend me a book, or will I continue to stare at you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't you have your own books?"

"They're in my brother's compartment in my trunk."

"Well why don't you go get them?" he said impatiently.

"I'd rather not speak with him," she said primly.

He scowled, but, realizing that unless Pansy and Co. came along—and he wouldn't bet money they would, if they hadn't already—he would be stuck with her the whole of the trip, he opened his trunk and tossed her a book, not seeing whether she caught it or not, and grabbed one for himself. It was a book his aunt had given him, _Witch Hunts of the 17th Century_. It was actually very interesting, despite its being written by a Muggleborn. He hadn't discovered that particular tidbit about the author until that summer, after the small row he'd had with his aunt about Muggleborns and Mugglelovers. He remembered it very clearly…

_"Draco," she said, sounding exasperated. "I honestly don't know what you dislike so much about them."_

_"They're inferior!" he stated. "You're just as much a Malfoy as I am; you should know that."_

_"Draco," she said, warningly, "being a Malfoy doesn't mean anything other than knowing how far back your bloodline stretches. It doesn't mean you're rich, it doesn't mean you're superior to everyone else; it doesn't even mean that you're smart. I hope that when you fall in love—and I know you will—that it will be someone who doesn't believe in the same things you do. Maybe then you'll finally understand."_

Her speech had haunted him almost as much as the quiet declaration she'd voiced just a few days after that, the day he left. She'd sounded so tired when she'd said it… _"I hope that you learn better, Draco; there are better things to do than belittle those whom you believe to be weaker than yourself."_

Draco sighed, leaning back against the seat. Maybe he'd figure out what his aunt was talking about. Maybe he wouldn't. Right now he just wanted to sleep.

***************

**Disclaimer:** The rivers will always run, the sun will always shine, humans will forever humiliate themselves in front of their crushes… And unless those things stop, I won't ever own these characters. I'll be waiting a long time, won't I?

**sparklingmoon585:** I'm glad I'm back too. :) I hope you like this whole story, even if it's not D/He… It's probably going to be one of my best. 

**opal**** star: *grin* Yup, I posted it. Glad you like it so much. **

**Kemenran****: Thanks! I certainly hope that you do read more of my work. Right now, the only ones I suggest wholeheartedly are _The Hogwarts Express and __Just One Night, because right now __The Secrets of My Heart is not on my favorites list… As in, I'm not all that proud of it. _**

**Lia****: Ooh! You hit the nail right on the spot, with that comment about her being different from the Malfoys we know. I'll probably be posting every four days or so. :) And where did you pick up the Remus thing? *raises eyebrows* I didn't mention it in there… Is this the Lia from B.W.A.? **

**harrypotter4ever:** Well I'm very glad you think that! It's certainly shaping up to be one of my best. A great plot, so far as I can tell. :D I hope you enjoy it.

**Puppy:** Thanks. Glad you like it. :)

**Kerbi****: Hehe, glad you think so. ^^**

**ringette****-chick**:** Hmm. I'll try to put some Hermione/Draco interaction in (in fact, I'll need it, since she's the most popular Muggleborn in Hogwarts ^^), but I already have someone for Hermione. I think she'll like him… *giggles***

**tommygurl**:** Glad you like it! Well, you've got two out of the three right—Draco and Alicia. After all, he believes both of them to be on his side. But he already knows about Hermione, since she's Harry Potter's best friend… So she obviously factors into his plans. I'm afraid I can't reveal who the third person is, but you're welcome to guess…**

**PhoenixRae****: Glad you like it. :) And yes, my sabbatical IS officially over. My exams is all done! Me happy. :) I think you'll like Alicia too. *grin***

*** If you would like to be notified when a new chapter is up, be sure to leave your e-mail address and tell me that you want the e-mail. ***


	3. At the Sorting

Chapter 3

Harry Potter leaned back against his seat, trying to block out the sound of Hermione and Ron's argument. He didn't know what Ron had said to his sister, but whatever it was had made her angry enough to run away from him. They'd searched for Ginny for at least three-quarters of an hour, and had checked probably every compartment on the train in the process. But she hadn't been in a single one of them. 

Harry shook his head. Ron and Hermione… _When they were going to admit that they liked each other, he had no idea. Ron's jealousy of Krum had been oh so obvious at the Yule Ball, and, if he wasn't mistaken, Hermione had been stealing glances at Ron throughout at least the last half of their fourth year. _

He sighed as his mind drifted back to Ginny. She'd kissed him that summer. It had been just the two of them, down in the kitchen the last day of vacation. He'd had trouble sleeping—Voldemort, again—and she had as well, probably for the same reason. They'd been talking, about both the coming war and the past, and suddenly she had leaned over and kissed him.

To be fair, it was an okay kiss. It was also his first, and, unless he was mistaken, her first as well. She'd pulled away after two seconds, her face a deep, scarlet red, and apologized before running upstairs. She'd avoided him since then, which hadn't been hard since it hadn't even been 24 hours. 

He was grateful, as he checked his watch—Sirius had given him a new one for his birthday, since his old one had stopped working after the Second Task—that they were probably almost to Hogwarts. He smiled. He loved the place; over the years it had become like a home to him, as the Dursleys' never had. And now he was finally returning. 

As he felt the train begin to slow down, he stood and walked out the compartment. He realized as he walked down the corridor that Hermione and Ron probably hadn't even realized he had left. Students began to exit the compartments, the excited chatter reaching an almost deafening roar as he reached the end of the car. He stopped by the door to the last compartment when he heard Ginny's voice inside. 

"Thanks for the book, Malfoy," she said. He could hear the smile in her voice, and frowned. What in the world?

She walked out the door, and he stepped away quickly, so as not to have her run into him. "Hi, Ginny," he said. 

She stopped, startled, and looked up at him. "H-hi, Harry," she said quietly.

"Were you in there with Malfoy?" he asked curiously, with a tinge of anger in his voice.

She frowned. "What business is it of yours?"

"You're my best friend's sister, for one," he stated. "For another," he leaned down, "you kissed me last night."

She scowled at him, obviously in a bad mood. "So what if I did? Maybe it's just helped me realize that my crush for you is gone. Over. Zip. Nada. No more."

Harry's eyebrows went up. Way up. What on earth had happened to her? Usually she was as agreeable as could be, and she'd had a crush on him for the previous three years—not to mention the fact that she'd kissed him the day before—but now… She seemed to be a whole different person almost. "What happened to you?"

Ginny suddenly looked a whole lot angrier. "Oh, just—" she stopped suddenly, and her facial expression changed. She now seemed…sad. "Maybe…" she sighed sadly. "Maybe you just… never really knew me." She shook her head and walked off, leaving Harry staring after her. 

"Well, Potter, you sure fucked that up," Malfoy said, appearing in the doorway to the compartment Ginny had just exited. He leaned against the frame, smirking.

Harry scowled at his archenemy, and, not deigning to reply, walked off down the corridor. What was the matter with everyone? Everything seemed to be off today, and it was throwing him. Badly. Ginny acting strangely, Malfoy speaking civilly—at least partly—Ron and Hermione fighting. He sincerely hoped all would do well at the sorting, or he might be feeling _really_ off-kilter by the time he went to bed. 

The ride to the school was quiet, Ron and Hermione having finally reached an impasse in their argument. Harry sincerely hoped that they wouldn't hold grudges against each other for a while, as the whole _world knew when they were fighting. Or at least it seemed like it, the way they would glare and ignore each other at the same time. You could feel the tension a mile away._

As they entered the Great Hall, Harry noticed that there were three seats still empty: Hagrid's, Professor Sinistra's, and, as always, the chair for the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. He belatedly wondered who would be teaching it this year, and whether he would measure up to Professor Lupin, who had no doubt been his favorite teacher of the subject. 

Harry only half-listened as McGonagall brought out the new first years and the Sorting Hat sang its song. However, at Ron's gasp, he looked up. "What?" he asked his friend.

The gangly red-head shook his head speechlessly, pointing at one of the first years. It was a girl; she had shocking red hair that clearly identified her as a Weasley. Harry raised a brow curiously as the sorting started.

"Anglia, Robert!" Professor McGonagall read from her list. A small brown-haired boy stood up nervously and put the Hat on his head. 

After a very few seconds, the Hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Georgia!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Terrence Everett became the first new Gryffindor, and Bea Farnwourth the first new Slytherin. Harry tuned out after that, looking up and down the table at the old faces. The twins were still there, as were Neville, Parvati, Lavender, Seamus, and Dean. He saw Ginny at the end near the teachers, by herself as she often seemed to be. He felt bad about their argument, but also rather relieved to find out that she no longer had a crush on him. 

Speaking of crushes… He glanced over at the Ravenclaw table, blushing when he saw Cho seated there. She was smiling and laughing quietly with her friends.

Harry jumped when he felt Ron poke him.

"Weasley, Jessica!" McGonagall called. A tall—especially for an eleven-year-old—red-haired girl walked confidently to the Hat and set it on her head. Unlike most of the Weasleys, it seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time to decide where to put her.

"She's my cousin," Ron whispered. "Dad's brother, Ben, married a Slytherin, and he was practically disowned. That's their daughter," he nodded at the girl the Hat was still deciding on. "I guess they're happy, and dad finally made peace with his brother a few years ago. We only just met Jessica last year."

"Why didn't you ever talk about her?" Harry asked quietly.

Ron shrugged. "Well, I didn't even know she existed till last year, and, well, it just never came up, I guess. I wonder what's taking so long… Usually the Hat places a Weasley within five seconds. It's been at least three minutes for her."

Harry shrugged, looking at Jessica Weasley. There was something different about her. She didn't seem as carefree as the other Weasleys he had met. 

Finally the Hat decided. "SLYTHERIN!" it shouted decisively. Talk broke out amidst the tables, no doubt about a _Weasley being sorted into Slytherin, and the table's applause was half-hearted at best. _

Harry turned to his friend and was amazed to find his mouth gaping open. "Ron?" he asked.

"Sh-she-she was s-sorted into _Slytherin," he finally gasped out. "A __Weasley was sorted into __Slytherin. I do believe the world is coming to an end."_

A look down the table found the rest of the Weasleys to be in similar predicaments. Both Fred and George were staring open-mouthed as their cousin made her way to the Slytherin table, and Ginny had her eyebrows raised curiously. She seemed to be taking it the best. The twins weren't even able to make a joke about it.

Finally, with "Zabini, Aileen," sorted into Slytherin, the sorting was over. Professor McGonagall carried the Hat away, and Dumbledore waved his hand, the food appearing one the table and Ron, despite his shock that a Weasley had been sorted into Slytherin, was able to eat quite a bit. The three friends didn't talk, and Hermione didn't even mention the house-elves. When they were finished eating, Dumbledore stood.

"Ah, another year begun. There are a few start-of-term notices I would like to give out before I leave you to return to your dormitories for the evening. 

"First, the Forbidden Forest is, of course, forbidden to all students. Hogsmeade is forbidden to those below third year and," he added, glancing at Harry, "those without a parental permission slip. 

"Second, the Inter-House Quidditch Cup shall recommence this year, so I suggest that the teams begin training as soon as possible. 

"Third, it is my great honor to introduce to you our Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Malfoy."

Murmuring swept through the Great Hall as the doors opened and a tall woman with light blonde hair strode past the students and up to the table, where she sat down next to Professor McGonagall. It was this that finally knocked Ron out of his stupor.

"Is he mad?" Ron demanded, looking shocked at the thought of a Malfoy as a professor, and Dumbledore for allowing it. 

Harry looked at the new professor, frowning. As much as he wanted to dislike her, he knew that Dumbledore always did things for a reason, and his choices could generally be trusted… And although he still was not completely certain about Snape, he knew that Dumbledore trusted him. If Dumbledore trusted Professor Malfoy, Harry supposed he could live with the professor.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded him. 

They began arguing again, although it was cut short when Dumbledore again demanded silence. "That is all. Will the prefects lead their houses to the dormitory then?"

Everett Smith stood, calling, "Gryffindors, follow me," and headed to the common room. Hermione stood and followed him, ignoring Ron completely. Harry shook his head, sighing, taking his time getting up from the table. He glanced at the Slytherin table, and was surprised to find Malfoy frowning at the top table where the teachers were still sitting. "Ron," Harry said, "You go; I'll catch up."

Ron nodded distractedly; the whole Jessica-thing was obviously still eating at him. Harry watched as his friend walked away before looking back to the Malfoy. The Slytherin stood slowly, and jerked his head towards the door. Harry followed his gaze to find it resting on the new professor, and tilted his head thoughtfully before heading towards the door. 

Walking out of sight, but not out of range, of the doors to the Great Hall, Harry heard the doors open again, and heard Malfoy begin speaking, "Aunt, why did you not tell me you would be teaching here?"

"Draco," Professor Malfoy sounded amused, "It is not as though I must tell you everything. Besides, I did not even know myself until a few days before you left."

"But you knew while I was there; why didn't you tell me then?" Malfoy demanded.

"Draco…" she sighed. "I just… I didn't, alright? Now then," her voice took on a happier note, "why don't you go on to the common room? We can catch up later." As Malfoy began to walk away—or that was what Harry assumed—she said, "Love you, dear."

"And you, Aunt Alicia," Malfoy replied.

Harry stood, shocked, in the corridor. Malfoy _loved someone? Someone __loved Malfoy? Alright, so it was family, but still. Malfoys were capable of love? The same shock that had no doubt engulfed Ron when Jessica had been sorted into Slytherin now engulfed Harry… His very basic beliefs about the world were being questioned._

"Good Gods," he whispered. First Ron and Hermione, then Ginny, then Malfoy, then Jessica, then Malfoy's aunt, then Malfoy again. Everything was throwing him so off-kilter he felt as though he might as well be on a ship… Not that he ever had been. But he imagined seasickness was this bad. Well, maybe not _quite_ this bad.

And to think, all he had been worried about when the summer had begun was whether or not there would be Quidditch games this year…

***************

**Disclaimer:** If I ever tell you I own this, please hit me over the head with a frying pan and ask me to gather my sanity.

**Kemenran****: Glad you liked that chapter! Hope you enjoy this one as well, and that you enjoy my other stuff. **

**Lia****: Yes, it will be a D/G fic. That's 'cause I really enjoy those two together, and it's really difficult, and it'll have to move really slowly, which is fine, since Ginny's still in fourth year, and Draco's still in fifth. Ginny's not speaking to Ron may or may not be revealed; I haven't decided whether or not it's important. And I _love_ the relationship between Alicia and Draco. It is _so much fun to work with. *grin*_**

**Crystal****: Glad you like it. :) You're on the updates list.**

**Kerbi****: Yeah, I'm done with exams… But I only got three A's. I got a B. *frowns* Phooey. I really needed all A's. *sigh* Oh well.**

**harrypotter4ever:** Don't you love Ginny? *grin* What do you mean by Draco/Ginny slashes? I didn't get that. Anyways, I won't reveal Hermione's pairing, whether it be Ron or someone else, for a bit. Haven't decided exactly when it'll be yet. Ah. However do I keep up with all my stories? I have no friggin' idea. I wrote a lot during my supposed sabbatical, and that's mostly what I've been posting. The rest of the time… Well, I dunno. I mean, I get writer's block a lot. I just work through it. I either start writing or I start plotting. I've thrown out a lot of copies of chapters. It took me _three tries to get this one scene in chapter four of this fic (not yet posted, but finished) right. I kept messing it up. And I started chapter six of __Last Will and Testament completely differently than I posted it. It was rather ridiculous actually. That's usually what happens; I start writing, and it's ridiculous, so I have to start over. It's trial and error for a while. Right now I'm really badly blocked on __Last Will and Testament and __The Hogwarts Express and __The Secrets of My Heart. For LWaT, I need to write, I know; for THE, I need to plot, because the problem right now is a plot detail—i.e., who the devil are the children and when did Ginny leave Draco for them?—for TSoMH, I also have plot problems, although this time it's the fact that I want to finish it A.S.A.P. and I have no idea how. Well, okay, so I've already written the last chapter, but I really should have a chapter before that. And now I'm thinking of totally rewriting the ending and changing it drastically because of a recent realization I had about the chapter. So right now I'm concentrating on my new stories because they don't have plot troubles yet. *sigh* But know that I will finish all of them. And I will attempt to finish them __well. All I can promise is that I won't go more than a month without updating, and I __will finish all of them. Well, that's probably a lot more than you wanted to know, but I felt the need to vent…_

*** If you would like to be notified when a new chapter is up, be sure to leave your e-mail address and tell me that you want the e-mail. ***


	4. Of Defense

Chapter 4

Alicia walked to the front of the classroom and sat down behind her desk, waiting for her first class to file in. Ironically, it was the fifth year Slytherins and Gryffindors. A double session. She'd found out from Snape that normally the two houses had Double Potion together; for some reason Dumbledore had decided to give them Double Defense Against the Dark Arts as well. 

The students arrived somewhat sporadically. A short bushy-haired girl was one of the first, and she sat at the front of the class, her hands clasped in front of her. Draco arrived soon after, sitting on the other side near the back of the room. After a few minutes, most of the class had arrived, and Alicia stood as the clock struck 9:00. 

"I expect all of you to be here every week _on time. I will accept no exceptions from any of you." A few stragglers walked in, and Alicia raised a brow. "And you are?" she asked._

"N-Neville L-Lon-Longbottom, professor," one of the boys stuttered. He had messy brown hair and was slightly pudgy.

The other had black hair and dark skin, and he smirked, answering confidently, "Blaise Zabini."

"I see. Well, Messrs. Zabini and Longbottom, please see me after class for a discussion on arriving to class ON TIME!" she ended abruptly, turning to the blackboard. She wrote her name on it. "My name," she turned back to the students, raising a brow at the two boys still standing. Longbottom walked to the only seat left open, next to the bushy-haired girl in the front row. Zabini sat next to Draco. "My name," she continued softly, "is Alicia Malfoy, Professor Malfoy to you. As I said earlier, I will not tolerate anyone being late. After today, a round ten points will be deducted from the house of each person who is so." Two small brown-haired girls on the left side of the room shared a whispered conversation.

"I also," Alicia said, enunciating each word clearly, "do not tolerate any conversations taking place while I am speaking." She kept her gaze on the two girls as they blushed and looked down at their books. "Today we will not study an animal, as you have no doubt done in the past," she said, and began to walk from one side of the room to the other, slowly, studying each student in turn. "Today, we will learn more of Voldemort." Most of the students gasped. "What do you know of him?"

Immediately the girl in the front row raised her hand.

"When I call on you," Alicia said, "I will expect you to stand and state your name and house before answering my question." She pointed at the girl. "Yes?"

"Hermione Granger, Gryffindor. You-Know-Who—"

"Say the name, Miss Granger," Alicia interrupted softly, sitting back down in her chair.

"Yes, ma'am," Granger nodded. "Voldemort's real name was Tom Marvolo Riddle. He went to school here fifty years ago. He was a Slytherin, prefect and later Head Boy, and won an award for special services to the school after he turned in the supposed heir to Slytherin after the Chamber of Secrets was opened." The girl took a deep breath. "After his graduation he disappeared, and when he reappeared, he did so as Voldemort, not as Tom Riddle." She glanced at Alicia, seeking permission to continue.

"Very good, Miss Granger. Two points to Gryffindor; you may sit down." Alicia stood up again, and walked down the aisle, eyeing each of the students, appraising what they would be able to contribute. "You," she said, pointing at the dark-haired boy who had walked in late, "what happened to Voldemort fourteen years ago?"

"Blaise Zabini, Slytherin," he said, standing up. "He was defeated by Harry Potter when the _Avada_ Kedavra_ curse back-fired upon him, draining him of his powers."_

"Wonderful; two points to Slytherin. Now then," Alicia said, walking back up to the front of the room and sitting on the edge of her desk. She grabbed the class roster, glancing down at it while continuing to speak. "While talking with Professor Dumbledore," she glanced at her nephew, purposefully leaving out the fact that she had gained most of the information while speaking with him, "I learned that last year Professor Moody showed you the Killing Curse. While with him, you learned practical application. With me, you will learn the history of it, as well as the history of other curses you no doubt learned under his tutelage.

"Knowing the practical application of something can only go so far. If you know its history, you will know how the curse was made, who made it—and perhaps you can discover how to create a counter-curse to the same effect. I do not expect many of you to be able to do this, as it requires a very versatile and open mind, not to mention a broom-load of creativity.

"So, I will pair you up—randomly—with someone, and you shall work together to research the curse I assign you." She looked down at the roster, running her finger along the names. "Miss Parkinson, Mister Potter; Mister Longbottom, Miss Bulstrode; Miss Granger, Mister Zabini; Mister Malfoy…" she paused in her perusal of the list and looked up at the students. "Mister Malfoy, Mister Weasley," she allowed herself a small smile at this, knowing Draco's hatred of the Weasleys, "Miss Patil, Mister Goyle; Mister Crabbe, Miss Brown…"

When she had finished pairing them up, she stood. "Well?" she asked, raising a brow. "Sit with your partner!" There was a shuffle of feet, papers, and chairs as half the students stood and made their way over to their partner, nearly everyone groaning at the injustice of it all. When they were all situated… No, wait. "Mister Zabini?" Alicia asked. He was still sitting where he had, and Miss Granger had not moved. However, there were no empty spots by Zabini; only Miss Granger. 

"Yes, professor?" the boy asked, smirking.

"Sit by Miss Granger." When he still did not move, she stood straighter, allowing her eyes to grow cold. "Now," she whispered menacingly. The boy lost a bit of his smirk and walked over to Miss Granger, scowling at the Gryffindor before sitting. "Now then," Alicia slipped back into her smile easily. She checked her watch. Still nearly a half hour of class left. "Pop quiz," she grinned. The class groaned, although she could have sworn Miss Granger was grinning back at her. She passed out the quiz she had made up that morning, basically a run-through of what Moody had taught the year before.

When she was done she walked back to her chair, sitting down and opening up the class roster again. She got out a sheet of parchment and dipped her quill in the ink before proceeding to write the partners' names down and pairing them with a curse. When she finished with that she looked up. It was rather eerily quiet. She allowed a small smile—that would be termed evil by some—to overtake her face and stood. "Pass your quizzes up; make sure your name is on it." There was some shuffling of papers as they were passed up. Alicia collected them from the front row before walking back to her desk and grabbing the list of partners and curses. 

"Now, when I call your names, you will come up and get your curse from me.

"Potter, Parkinson!"

"Granger, Zabini!"

"Malfoy, Weasley!"

When she'd run through everyone, and they had all received their curse, she stood. "I expect six inches of preliminary work on the curse by our next meeting. I expect you to work together; I will know if you don't." She looked at each student in turn. "Class dismissed! Zabini, Longbottom—we need to speak."

Alicia watched as the students filed out…all but four. Zabini, Longbottom, Granger, and… Draco. She ignored the last two and said to Zabini and Longbottom, "I expect you to be on time from now on. Why were you late?"

"I was working with Professor Sprout on a project for Herbology," Longbottom said, looking at his feet. "I rather lost track of time."

"Zabini?" Alicia asked, her brow raised as she stared down at the Slytherin.

"I don't see why it matters," he said. 

Alicia's eyes darkened. "Detention at nine. We need to work on your manners, Mr. Zabini. You two," she said, indicating Zabini and Longbottom, "can go. Granger, Malfoy; what are you two doing here?" 

Zabini spoke up, not having left. "We can't work together," he said, nodding at Granger. The girl looked slightly miffed, but said nothing, only crossed her arms.

Alicia raised a brow imperiously as Draco unsuccessfully attempted to cover a snort. He knew, at least, that no one crossed Alicia. "And why not?" she asked quietly.

"Because we… don't get along," Zabini said, shifting uncomfortably.

Alicia smiled slightly. "Well you had better get along then, because you two will be paired for the rest of the year. And judging from Miss Granger's excellent record, I expect marvelous work from the _two of you." _

Zabini scowled at her and left the room, Granger running after him mumbling about setting up a time to work together. 

"Aunt, are you sure that was wise?" Draco asked wryly.

"Draco," Alicia said condescendingly, "since when have I ever given you leave to question me?"

He seriously looked as though he were considering it. 

She grinned at him and laughed. "Just go on; don't you have a class to get to? Or are you going to try and talk me into switching you with someone else?" she asked, an evil glint in her eye.

"Oh, right," Draco snorted, "like I'm going to fall for that one."

"See you later, kid," she said, reaching out to mess his hair. He pulled away before she could get to it, raising a brow.

"Don't you think I'm a bit old for that?"

"You'll never be too old for it, Draco," Alicia said, smiling. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Draco shook his head, grinning—not smirking. "Alright, Alicia." He then grabbed his books and left the room.

Alicia sat down, putting her chin in her hand and sighing. Draco was a wonderful kid, and she loved him like a son. Her free hand wandered down to her abdomen and she smiled sorrowfully. She was getting old. Oh, she was still only 34, but how many women—even witches—had children that late in life? And she didn't have any romantic prospects anyway…

Not that she hadn't. At one point she'd been the belle of the ball…

_"Alicia, may I have this dance?" her brother purred, a twinkle in his eye._

_She smiled at him, rolling her eyes. "Of course," she murmured. _

_Halfway through the dance, someone tapped her brother on the shoulder. "May I cut in?" Edward Lestrange asked. _

_Lucius bowed his head gracefully and Alicia accepted the change in partners with nary a change in her facial expression. _

She couldn't remember a time when she had danced a dance with _only_ one person. Someone had always cut in. It had usually been Edward. They had dated for most of her sixth and seventh years, as well as most of the year after that… 

Until he surprised her—as well as everyone else—by eloping with Bellatrix Black. They were apparently extremely close. She had learned afterwards that the Dark Lord had endorsed their marriage. She had been forced to work with them quite a lot, much to her dismay. After all, she had been a servant of the Dark Lord as well. Luckily, she had joined before either of them…

But had it really been luck? She had joined mostly because of the thought of all that power… Not to mention the pressure she had received from both her brother and father. And neither of those reasons were good ones. Oh, it hadn't lasted _too_ long… About six months or so, really.  

_That_ was when she had become a spy. She didn't regret the decision, although she abhorred the circumstances that had led to it.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" a petite red head—who had just walked in the door, her books in her hands—said, looking ashamed. 

Alicia looked up. "Don't be," she said reassuringly. "Are you here for the—" she checked her chart—"fourth year Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson?"

"Yes. Our last class got out early," the girl said quietly, twirling a piece of hair with her finger nervously. "Everyone else is either outside or in the common room… I didn't have anything to do so I decided to come here—" She stopped talking, realizing she was rambling, and blushed. "I'm sorry. I tend to do that when I'm nervous," she admitted, smiling wryly. 

Alicia smiled back. She could get to like this girl. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Ginny Weasley."

"It's good to meet you, Miss Weasley," Alicia murmured. She knew what most of her family thought of the Weasleys, although she didn't really agree with them. "I'm Professor Alicia Malfoy."

"A pleasure, I'm sure," Ginny smiled.

Alicia grinned. Well, she seemed to be off to a good start with _this_ class at least.

***************

**Disclaimer:** Did you think I owned these characters? *laughs maniacally* Wow. Hehe. *giggles*


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